The Usual
by rebelxxwaltz
Summary: Walt and Vic have a spicy lunchtime adventure. One-shot story, Walt/Vic.


_Here we are on a typical Wednesday, and it's become evident that my brain is still firmly lodged in the gutter. Sorry I haven't made progress with existing stories, but at least I've still got something to offer! I suppose this could exist in the same universe as 'Heat,' but it's essentially just a plotless standalone._

_**Warnings: **__Dirty hot sex and some colorful language. If that's not your thing… well, you probably wouldn't have clicked on this, but just to be on the safe side. ;D_

**The Usual**

It struck Walt as almost unseemly, the idea that a man his age could develop such a sudden and insatiable appetite for hard, fast fucks. It was nothing he had ever contemplated before or during more than twenty-five happy years of marriage, or in the dark and uncertain aftermath following Martha's death.

And yet here he found himself, fully-clothed with the notable exception of the open fly of his jeans and boxers that had been hastily tugged out of the way, buried balls deep in the surprised but undeniably receptive blonde deputy who was balanced on the edge of his desk with her own jeans halfway off and the skimpy underwear she seemed to favor pushed aside for fast access.

It was 12:30pm on a Wednesday afternoon. What the hell was he _doing?_

This was possibly the most unprofessional thing he'd ever done, at least outside the scope of Lucian's authority in the early days of his law enforcement career. Ruby was out of the office on her daily lunch and errands and it was Ferg's day off, so somehow that had translated to Walt's lust-addled brain as a perfect excuse to drag Vic into his office and do… this.

Vic gasped and choked out, "Fuck, Walt—" bunching the fabric at the back of his shirt as he pressed in harder, knocking several file folders onto the floor as his left hand sought better leverage on the smooth wooden surface of the desk.

Really it was Mathias' fault. If he hadn't shown up at the office to tell them in person that the Tribal Police wouldn't produce the documents needed for an already arduous investigation without a subpoena, Vic wouldn't have gotten so aggravated. If she hadn't been so pissed off, she never would have stuck her hip out in that way that used to just scream '_sass_' but these days served to remind Walt of exactly how those hips could circle and grind beneath his hands when they were in bed together— which, since the first time a short two weeks prior, was most nights.

Mathias had taken his petulant leave just as Ruby was finishing up the invoices, gathering up her purse and saying she'd be out for a couple hours to hit the office supply store and keep her appointment at the hairdresser. And so Walt had found himself left with a practically deserted office and only his fired-up, sex-in-tight-jeans deputy for company.

Her changeable eyes had flashed as she complained about Mathias, while Walt's rapidly darkening blue gaze couldn't help but sweep over her furious form with intense interest as she strutted from her document cluttered desk to the coffee pot. She'd gone to pick up her favorite Flyers mug and he'd found himself reaching out to grab her wrist, eliciting a stunned glance as he tugged her toward the inner sanctum of his private office without a word.

With impressive economy of movement Walt had closed and locked the door behind them while simultaneously managing to pin Vic against it, watching her lips part in a likely attempt to question his actions. He'd cut her off by kissing her soundly, one arm winding around to her back and the other pressing flat against the door jamb next to her head. He'd been able to feel crackling tension in the already coiled spring of her body, and knew the exact moment where Vic began directing that accumulated energy away from her anger and toward his amorous advances.

She'd snaked her arms around his shoulders as his lips slid over to taste the skin of her elegantly arched neck. The hand at her waist trailed down, fingers sliding boldly into the back pocket of her jeans. Vic released a sound that was half-moan, half-laugh, carding one set of fingers into the hair just behind his ear. He'd bitten down gently on the skin above the collar of her duty shirt, hard enough to be suggestive but not to leave a mark that would be hard to explain away in the middle of the work day.

They'd kissed again, tongues twisting and hands wandering as the pace of their breathing increased. Moving his hands to her hips, Walt had hooked his index fingers into two of Vic's belt loops and pulled her in against the growing bulge in his jeans. Vic had gyrated against him, and a small noise became lodged in his throat as their lips broke apart. They shared an intense moment of eye contact, and Vic finally spoke.

"Walt Longmire, are you angling for a lunchtime quickie?"

It was the sultry, husky voice she only ever used at times like this, her bedroom voice. Walt had been mildly embarrassed and a bit shocked at his own actions, but at the same time he was far too turned on to care. In response to her question he'd given a small smile, averting his eyes for a brief moment. Vic had raised one expertly groomed eyebrow, shimmying out of his grasp and striding over to the row of windows in a hurry to shut all the blinds.

As she fiddled with the final set of window coverings Walt caught her around the waist, pulling her in so that her shoulders were flush with his chest. He'd kissed her ear, pressed his lips to her temple, and allowed his hands to wander freely. Vic arched back, fitting into him perfectly, placing her hands on top of his own and coming along for the ride. She felt so good against him, he had abandoned all sense of rationality in favor of this ready temptation within the heated circle of his arms.

He couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried. Yanking Vic's belt buckle open and unfastening the front of her low-riding jeans, Walt had eagerly slid one hand into her pants and over the cotton and lace material covering the hidden delights within. He rubbed his large fingers up and down, feeling the heat and imagining the slickness that lay beyond the thin barrier of fabric. Vic had purred and closed her eyes, chest heaving as his thumb made circles in the vicinity of her clitoris and two of his long fingers slid past the lacy edge of her panties to touch and tease without encumbrance.

"Shit… what's gotten into you? We—" She'd paused, releasing a shuddering gasp. "—we just had sex like five hours ago…"

He'd figured he probably ought to say _something_. "I just need you."

Apparently that painfully simplistic explanation had been good enough. Those four innocuous words had managed to carry them right up to now, with Vic biting her lip to try to keep her moans quiet as Walt thrust into her vigorously, the sturdy if much-abused desk emitting ominous creaking noises as they rocked against each other with mindless abandon. Somewhere along the line she had unsnapped the top few buttons of his shirt, and her breath was hot against his collarbone. Her garments were similarly skewed by Walt's explorations, shirt gaping and the tank top beneath twisted sideways to reveal an eye-catching printed bra.

Vic's hands clutched at him and Walt felt his knees weaken as her fine-tuned internal muscles spasmed deliciously around his thick cock when he shortened his thrusts and rotated his hips in rhythm with her uncontrolled pulsing. His thighs were pressing against the edge of the desk, one hand splayed at the small of Vic's back to hold her steady as the pace escalated to an all-out frenzy. Lips pressed against the side of her face near her earlobe, Walt grunted from the sustained erotic effort as Vic released a breathless string of words.

"Walt, oh my God. _Fuck._Fuck me just like that. _Ohhh_—" And with that she shook and shivered, locking his body within the exalted prison of her strong legs, grinding herself onto him and riding hard on the waves of release.

The combination of physical and verbal stimulants took Walt over the edge right along with her, growling "Vic," as tingling warmth spread through his limbs and raced to the bullseye of concentrated pleasure where his body was willfully cemented with hers.

It was all push and pull, writhing and grasping, sensual mutterings and labored breathing as they surrendered to each other and worked to sustain the bubble of mutual ecstasy they had created. Vic's hand was gripped into the back of the waistband of his jeans, keeping Walt pressed close as he flexed his hips one final time and swallowed her answering moan with a wet, dirty kiss.

For several minutes they did nothing but breathe, Walt hovering over Vic with his hands braced on either side of her hips on the desk and her forehead tucked in and leaning against the junction of his collarbones. When he finally pulled away, she watched him with an incredulous expression as he made a futile attempt to straighten her disheveled garments. Walt looked down at himself, noticing for the first time what a mess they both were as he stood on unsteady legs.

Unsurprisingly she was the first to speak.

"Wow. Is this the new 'usual' for lunch, because I'm not sure how we're gonna break the news to Dorothy."

Eyes widening, Walt experienced a moment of intense panic. "Vic, I'm so sorry. I—"

She poked her index finger into his still-exposed chest muscle, expression fierce. "Don't you dare apologize for sex this incredible. I will seriously punch you."

Walt displayed a small, secret smile. He knew she would happily deliver on that threat, but that didn't change the fact that they had crossed a very dangerous line.

"That's not what I'm apologizing for." Clothing righted, Walt ran a hand over the back of his hair to straighten it, a nervous habit he couldn't seem to break. "Sometimes…" He raised one hand up, stilling her motions as she wiggled back into her jeans. Cradling one side of her face, he lightly kissed her lips. "Sometimes when I look at you, I just lose it completely. This shouldn't have happened here."

Smiling devilishly, she covered his hand with hers. "What, you don't want Ruby delivering post-its while you're busy screwing my brains out? Multitasking is a valuable skill, Walt."

He exhaled heavily, hoping this wasn't about to turn into their first authentic lover's quarrel. "Vic—"

"You are _too_ easy!" Her hands ran up the front of his shirt, deft fingers carefully fastening the errant snaps until she got to the top and straightened his collar. Tugging him down, she spoke against his lips. "I think we can agree that we shouldn't do it while we're working again. But…" Her gaze fluttered up to meet his, surprisingly serious. "…please don't cheapen this by calling it a mistake."

There was a current of deep feeling running between them, thrumming through a connection that had only been reinforced by their recklessly passionate encounter. Walt pressed his forehead against Vic's, holding both her hands in his.

"I would never say that. I never could." The tender moment stretched, broken only by the ringing of the phone on Walt's desk. "Guess I should answer that. Since there's, uhm, nobody here except us."

Vic's lips pressed together, smothering what he knew was a wicked smile waiting to break out. "Kay. I'm suddenly starving, for some odd reason. Lunch from the Bee? I'll fly…"

"Yep." He picked up the receiver.

"The usual?" She grinned openly, hands on her hips.

He cleared his throat, allowing his eyes to rake up and down Vic's form. "You bet."

Swaggering her way to the office door, presumably to go clean up before fetching their food, she threw one last saucy glance over her shoulder. "Great. I'll make sure Dorothy loads us up. You're gonna need your energy later."

**xxxxx**

_Yes, another fic that contains food jokes. Seems I need 'new material' for my comedy act just as badly as Walt does. ;D_

_Please do drop me a review if you enjoyed this!_


End file.
